Song - Misfire by Queen
December 13th, 1974
Barcelona
"Thank you so much, all you beautiful people, for making the European leg of the 'Sheer Heart Attack' an absolute delight - not to mention a global success. Before we go to North America in the new year, to celebrate the musical genius that is me, let us raise a glass to each of you. Thank you so much darlings, we love you" the raven-haired singer slurred into the microphone, his body swaying slightly as he clumsily raised his Champaign glass in a toast. The crew members echoed his gesture, a few rowdier yelling incoherent congratulations at the singer, whilst a few more flamboyant blew him air kisses. Freddie returned them all with a cheeky wink, before unceremoniously stumbling across the stage. A few chuckled at the tipsy singer before returning to their conversations; throughout the tour, they had seen him in much drunker states, and he always lived to tell the tale. He fell, rather than walked, down the stairs, before returning his affections to a Spanish model he had met the night before.
The two guitarists of Queen swirled around the dance floor, doing the obligatory rounds of guests to give their thanks and congratulations. The taller of the two, Brian, completed this with natural ease, radiating a self-assured confidence that calmed the crew members. He remembered everybody's name and story - how's your daughter? How's your dog doing?. He had ingratiated himself with the crew members at an early stage in the tour, making sure to buy everybody a coffee on the days they were feeling down and check how their days were going. Deaky were a little more awkward in this regard, but for the most part he were able to remember everybody's name and carry a basic, awkward conversation with them.
The drummer didn't even try. Roger stayed glued to the bar, the same bottle of beer cradled in his grip as when the night started. His icy blue eyes were almost menacing as he glared at the assembled party, contempt burning in his irises. He didn't mean to be in a perpetual bad mood - he knew he had driven everyone insane with it this tour - but he couldn't help it. He was sick and tired of being on this stupid tour. Even as the party progressed and was 'crashed' by a number of the rich and famous, Roger's mood didn't improve. Bowie failed to impress the sullen drummer, and moved away to speak to someone else after five painful minutes of dealing with Roger's biting one word answers to every question.
He understood why the cast needed a party - hell, he congratulated the idea of treating them for all their hard work - but he couldn't understand why he had to attend. The show was over, the tour on hiatus until they performed in North America in February; he had done his part, fulfilled his contract, surely now it was time for him to go home and fulfill his familial obligations for a few blissful months. But no, here he was, stranded in a fucking seedy nightclub of all places, waiting for a six am flight his band mates would all be too pissed to remember the following day.
I'm getting too old for this, he realized bitterly, glaring down the neck of the geeen bottle. I just want to go home.
Queen had been on the road since October 30th. The tour started in Manchester, ending its UK stint with two nights in London. That leg of the tour hadn't been too bad - enjoyable, even - as Roger had been close enough to travel home for a few hours on his days off, and Victoria had even managed to bring Lola to see Queen in London, seated at the side of stage with the hyper three tear old. Killer queen had been released, becoming an instant smash hit for the band. The band had revelled in the success, Roger included, of having their first number one hit in the English charts.
It was only when the European leg of the tour commenced that Roger fully understood what their newly acquired level of fame meant. Time spent away from his family for months at a time would cease to be the exception, but the norm. He suddenly saw Victoria's side more clearly, why she was unwilling to have another baby in a relationship such as this one. Like as not, no matter what he wanted to protest, she would end up doing it alone, again.
